If I Bleed
by dragonsnap
Summary: "If I could have been your angel, I would have found a way to fly." Faye struggles as Spike returns. When something is not meant to be, is it still worth fighting for? *Heed the rating, please.
1. where it leads

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters. Lyrics from "It Doesn't Matter" by Alison Krauss have been used.   
  
  
  
**Where It Leads**   
  
  
  
**When he left**   
  
**It doesn't matter what I want   
It doesn't matter what I need   
It doesn't matter if I cry   
Don't matter if I bleed**   
  
  
  
He had to leave. The decision was not hers to make for him, but his to make for himself. She was not a factor in his equation.   
  
  
  
**You've been on a road   
Don't know where it goes   
or where it leads**   
  
  
  
She couldn't stop him.   
  
  
  
**It doesn't matter what I want   
It doesn't matter what I need   
If you've made up your mind to go   
I won't beg you to stay**   
  
  
  
She wouldn't stop him.   
  
  
  
**You've been in a cage   
Throw you to the wind   
you fly away**   
  
  
  
She was the bright, yellow canary and he the captured and chained hawk. And the chain had been broken.   
  
  
  
Lifting her hand, she pulled the trigger. Shots rang out consecutively. Bang. Bang. Bang.   
  
  
  
________________________   
  
  
  
**Now**   
  
  
  
_What would you do if I died?_   
  
  
  
She watched as he lifted the grilled pepper with his chopsticks from the bowl into his mouth. His wonderful, terrible, forbidden mouth.   
  
  
  
_What would you do if I died? If someone just took a knife and pierced my heart with it, right in front of your eyes? _   
  
  
  
Laying the now empty bowl down, Spike sighed and laid back down on the yellow couch. Later, when he left, she could lay in the imprint his body left on the seat. She could let herself sink into where his long form had been, engulfing herself in his prior presence. Back on the ship for 12 hours and he'd already claimed back his territory.   
  
  
  
_Would you cry? Would you hold me until my eyes slowly closed and my last labored breath was gone? Would you-_   
  
  
  
The clatter of cheap plastic dishes and water running broke her train of thought.   
  
  
  
"I cook. I clean. I fix things. Why can't you guys bring in some money to at least show some appreciation?" Jet grumbled as he started doing the dishes. Faye secretly smiled. His gruff exterior could not hide the paternal affection he gave so selflessly and she had taken so selfishly.   
  
  
  
_But not anymore. Now I cook and clean, too._   
  
  
  
But she didn't object. She knew that Jet was just happy to have things back to normal. Or, at least, the way it had once been on the Bebop.   
  
  
  
Faye sat in the chair by the couch. His couch. But he had his hands behind his head and newspaper over his face, possibly sleeping, possibly not. Taking out the deck, she let her hands feel the cool smoothness of her playing cards.   
  
  
  
_Solitaire._   
  
  
  
She began to play.   
  
  
  
_This is my game. This is my life._   
  
  
  
Faye thought about herself in two ways: the way she had been before being frozen and the way she was after being awoken. She'd been a sweet girl. Clear, trusting eyes and a shy smile. Those same eyes had turned cynical and that smile had become sarcastic, but how else was a person to turn after being awakened alone and lost? She did what she had to do to survive. On her own.   
  
  
  
_You tell a girl she owes you more money than she can count the second she wakes up and expect her to be all right?_   
  
  
  
Slapping a card down, Faye told herself to breathe.   
  
  
  
_In and out. In. Out. Again. In..._   
  
  
  
She didn't know who she was now anymore than she did before regaining her memory. She had two people inside of her fighting against each other at all moments. The Faye she had been for almost all her life, before the accident, and the Faye she had become in the past 3 years. She was caught in between, both at the same time, but really neither. Apologizing and showing gratitude were easy to her now, but she still had a quick mouth and even quicker hands.   
  
  
  
_It's all right. I'm all right._   
  
  
  
Faye stole a glance at him. Spike had begun to snore.   
  
  
  
_He's all right._   
  
  
  
She still didn't know how to act in front of him, or what to say to him. After Spike had left, she and Jet had struggled to go on. Jet began to obsess even more over his bonsai trees and catching bounties. They spoke easily. He was, after all, a man. And a man would not show his grief publicly. She, on the other hand, had locked herself in her room. Playing that cursed video over and over and over again. It was completely different when she could identify all the places and people in the video.   
  
  
  
_It's all I have left from that life._   
  
  
  
Her home was gone and all the people she had once loved had passed on.   
  
  
  
_But he didn't_.   
  
  
  
Just months after leaving, he had strolled back onto the Bebop.   
  
  
  
________________________   
  
  
  
**When he returned**   
  
  
  
She could hear him calling her through her bedroom door. Letting out a groan, she lifted herself out of bed with great effort.   
  
  
  
"I'm gonna go cash in on this bounty!" Jet informed her as she opened her door.   
  
  
  
"Okay."   
  
  
  
"Stay out of trouble!"   
  
  
  
"Okay."   
  
  
  
" I mean it, woman!"   
  
  
  
"You know I won't."   
  
  
  
He hesitated. Jet was not one to express himself emotionally, but he had more than noticed the changes taking place in Faye. She was now a little more reserved, definitely quieter, and had a smile so sad he couldn't bear to look at. It'd only been a few months since the departure of Spike, and she had yet to speak of him, but Jet was Jet. He did not know how to deal with women.   
  
  
  
"Well, I'll be back."   
  
  
  
"Okay."   
  
  
  
Faye gathered her robe and towel before heading towards the bathroom. The shower was always giving her mixed emotions. Sometimes, she'd laugh aloud, remembering the way she kept Spike waiting outside for hours. Other times, she'd cry, remembering the way her memory had returned to her. And it never was enough for her to just tear and sniffle. No, she had to sob uncontrollably as her body shook violently. Drowning herself. But today, it was neither of those things. Brush teeth. Shampoo. Condition. Body wash. And then she was done.   
  
  
  
_That was good. That was really good. _   
  
  
  
She nodded to herself, as if to confirm her thoughts.   
  
  
  
_I was normal. I showered without getting emotional._   
  
  
  
Water dripping from her dark hair, Faye stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Had she changed? she wondered. Her hair was a little longer, her lips no longer red...but was that it?   
  
  
  
_Were those the only things to have changed after he'd left?_   
  
  
  
Drying herself off in her room, she hummed. Today was the day she would really start over, she'd decided. She would start bringing in money to help out Jet. He'd been so understanding in the recent weeks. Not demanding she leave her room or threatening to kick her off the ship.   
  
  
  
_Today, I will sell the Redtail. I'll give Jet the money and-_   
  
  
  
Her thoughts trailed off as she skimmed through her closet. Faye pulled a small white t-shirt over her head, it resembled a little boy's undershirt. Her pants were strange, but she liked them because they made her look tough. Tan, fitted, with different zippers and pockets. They were fighting pants.   
  
  
  
_But I'm not a bounty hunter anymore. So I don't fight..._   
  
  
  
And there was nothing hold her hair away from her face. She liked to have her hair free, falling in her face like a curtain.   
  
  
  
Still humming, she walked into the kitchen. Pancakes and juice. Now that she could remember what she used to eat, Faye had taken it upon herself to make herself those foods. It was just one of those things that she could hold onto. She put on her blue apron, going through the ingredients in her head.   
  
  
  
_Eggs? Check. Milk? Check. Flour? Check. _   
  
  
  
She liked mixing the batter. Her mother used to let her do it all the time, she remembered. Faye had also had a special technique for mixing batter. 20 quick strokes clock wise, 20 medium strokes counter clockwise, 20 slow strokes-   
  
  
  
"Faye?"   
  
  
  
And the world stopped moving.   
  
  
  
Slowly, but surely, she turned around.   
  
  
  
And then it began to move again.   
  
  
  
_Spike._   
  
  
  
Jacket slung over his left shoulder, cigarette between his lips, un-knotted tie hanging around his neck.   
  
  
  
There he was.   
  
  
  
Unruly hair, questioning eyes, head slightly tilted.   
  
  
  
There he was.   
  
  
  
"Spike?"   
  
  
  
_There he was._   
  
  
  
"You're cooking?"   
  
  
  
_Breathe.   
  
  
  
In and out.   
  
  
  
In. Out.   
  
  
  
In.   
  
  
  
Out._   
  
  
  
"Yes," she answered, breathlessly, "pancakes."   
  
  
  
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but his grin was casual.   
  
  
  
"Would you like some?"   
  
  
  
_Is that my voice? Do I really sound so calm? _She was sure he could hear the pounding of her heart from where he was standing, but she held her ground.   
  
  
  
Spike hesitated in the doorway, looking at her. Her face revealed nothing.   
  
  
  
It revealed everything.   
  
  
  
"Sure," he said. Faye nodded and turned her back towards him.   
  
  
  
_Twenty quick strokes left, twenty slow strokes-_   
  
  
  
She could feel his eyes on her as she poured the batter into the pan. Watching her as she flipped over perfectly round pancakes.   
  
  
  
_I look domestic, _she realized,_ that's why he was surprised. I never cooked before. I never did anything useful._   
  
  
"Is four enough for you?"   
  
  
  
_God, how am I speaking to him like this?_   
  
  
  
Her voice did not waver, but was controlled and smooth. Not cold, but not warm.   
  
  
  
"Yeah," he replied from the table.   
  
  
_  
He sounds the same, as always._   
  
  
  
Balancing a plate of pancakes, syrup, and beer on a tray, Faye walked over to where he was sitting and began to set the food in front of him. Her face revealed nothing as she avoided his eyes. His eyes could make her scream, cry, laugh, or die. She had to avoid them at all costs.   
  
  
  
"This is a first, huh?"   
  
  
  
And then she did it. She looked straight into his gaze.   
  
  
  
_It is possible forget how to breathe, she realized.   
  
  
  
Clink. Clink. Clink-_   
  
  
  
Faye looked down and realized her hand that was holding the fork was shaking. She watched as if in slow motion as a larger hand placed itself on top of hers. It was Spike's.   
  
  
  
"Yeah, I guess it is."   
  
  
  
The first time for her to cook for him.   
  
  
  
The first time for his hand to touch hers.   
  
  
  
The first time she felt sane in a long, long time.   
  
  
  
"Faye, are you cooking? Do your own damn dishes-" Jet froze as he entered the room, "Spike?!"   
  
  
  
  
Sorry if this is confusing, but I like to take my time with developing stories. This is my first time writing and I would appreciate any form of feedback. Thank you. 


	2. i said crazy

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters.   
  
  
  
**I Said Crazy**   
  
  
  
Fay quietly stepped past the two men, not really paying attention to the words they were exchanging.   
  
  
  
"--brought me to the hospital-"   
  
  
  
"You were unconscious for-"   
  
  
  
"-stay here-"   
  
  
  
"--back to normal."   
  
  
  
She went back into her room, feeling slightly dazed. She wasn't angry, but she wasn't overjoyed at the sight of him either. She just felt...   
  
  
  
_Distracted._   
  
  
  
Yes, she felt distracted. And maybe just a little angry, but only a little.   
  
  
  
_So he lived through it. I should have known. After all, how many times did he leave with the threat of never returning? Too many to keep track of_, she thought.   
  
  
  
Though, the last time he'd left, Faye had been most certain that she would never see him again. Then again, the last time he'd left, he had left behind a different person. A different Faye. Spike had not been able to see this new Faye. The Faye with a past.   
  
Along with her memory came a different person. The _real_ Faye. Or, was it just the old Faye? She still couldn't decide.   
  
When she did this, think about herself, Faye could forget everything else around her. She would just close her eyes, concentrate, and time would pass quickly. This was how she had been surviving the past months. Just letting time pass her by.   
  
She thought of her childhood: school, friends, her house.   
  
  
  
_It's all right_, she told herself,_ I know who I was back then. I know who my family was, my friends. And I'll remember. No matter what, I'll remember._   
  
  
  
_Bang. Bang. _   
  
  
  
She awoke with a startle.   
  
  
  
_Gunshots! Someone's shooting a-_   
  
  
  
"Get out of you room and eat dinner!"   
  
  
  
It was Jet, banging his spatula against the wall. His way of ringing the dinner bell.   
  
Faye ran her hands through her hair, smoothing it out, while rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She realized that she had slept through the day.   
  
  
  
_Again. I sleep through every day._   
  
  
  
She stopped at the doorway, startling herself. Spike was laying on the couch, staring at the ceiling fan spin. Jet was serving overcooked peppers. She waited for Ed and Ein to come running in, disrupting the seemingly calm atmosphere.   
  
  
  
But they didn't.   
  
  
  
Faye shook the thoughts from her head. There was too much on her mind at once, it made her dizzy and tired.   
  
  
  
"Eat up!"   
  
  
  
And so she ate, watching him without anyone noticing. Faye ate slowly. She wondered if Spike had noticed this. This must have been a first for him, also, seeing her eat slowly. She laughed.   
  
  
  
"What's so funny?" demanded Jet.   
  
  
  
"Nothing," she whispered.   
  
  
  
She had too many strange thoughts in her head. Strange, crazy, and weird thoughts.   
  
  
  
_Does he know how I felt when I thought he died?_   
  
  
  
Chewing noisily and concentrating on his meal, Spike's profile was rugged and hard.   
  
  
  
_Can he see how I'm different now?_   
  
  
  
________________________   
**Now**   
  
  
  
And so there she was. Staring at the ace in her hands and being crazy. Only, no one but her knew how crazy she was inside.   
  
  
  
_How about if I just ran out and threw myself into the water? Trying to drown myself in that water you like to fish in?_   
  
  
  
His chest rose up and down slowly, rhythmically with his breath.   
  
  
  
_Or what if I dyed my hair blonde and had someone shoot me in the chest? Would you think of her? You would... wouldn't you?_   
  
  
  
And she had been so normal, before. She had tried so hard to overcome this, but now she was starting to get angry. She was starting to feel.   
  
When she first saw him, it had been shock that overcame her senses. Now, she just felt annoyed. Very, very annoyed.   
  
  
  
_This is fun for you, I bet. Cause you're just such a fucking rebel, going off and getting yourself almost killed. You must think of yourself as some sort of tragic hero._   
  
  
  
Spike was yawning now, stretching his arms out and sitting up.   
  
  
  
_Who the _fuck_ do you think you are? Poor Spike. Poor Julia. Poor fucking you._   
  
  
  
Lighting the cigarette in his mouth, he glanced up at her. Faye could feel him looking at her, but she concentrated on her hands. Her cards. Anything, but him.   
  
  
  
"Want one?" he asked, holding out his crumpled pack. Faye barely acknowledged the offer.   
  
  
  
"I quit." She slapped down the last card. She'd won. Solitaire was too easy.   
  
  
  
"Really?"   
  
  
  
"4 months, 12 days."   
  
  
  
"I see."   
  
  
  
_4 months, 13 days since you'd left. Since I stole your hidden pack underneath the couch and smoked then all in one sitting._   
  
  
  
"What's been going on around here? You been staying out of trouble?" he asked teasingly.   
  
  
  
_So this is how it's gonna be. You want me to be witty and biting and angry. Just so that you can be cool and calm and collected. Just so you can have the upper hand. Be the mature one._   
  
  
  
"Jet's been catching enough bounties. I haven't caught any." Spike watched as she stacked up her cards and laid them on the table. She seemed to have suddenly found her left thumb very interesting, picking and staring at it.   
  
  
  
"In other words, nothing's really changed."   
  
  
  
_Oh, if you only knew. If you only _knew_ just how wrong you are._   
  
  
  
The Faye that Spike thought he left behind would have been sarcastic and dramatic. She would have yelled at him for what he had done that day. She would have tried to knock him out with a right hook.   
  
But this Faye, the Faye he had returned to, was not her. The old Faye had cared for him deeply, and perhaps she still did, but her world no longer revolved around him and the others. She had herself to care about, and that was more than enough these days.   
  
  
  
"Bounty hunting isn't my calling," she said, smiling, "it seems as though I was supposed to be a marine biologist."   
  
  
  
"What?"   
  
  
  
Faye looked at him evenly.   
  
  
  
"Well, you see, before my family was killed and I was frozen for 50 years, I was studying marine biology. "   
  
  
  
They could see the sarcasm dripping from her voice.   
  
  
  
"Is that so?"   
  
  
  
"Yeah."   
  
  
  
Spike didn't know how he was supposed to react to that. He felt strange...she was so different. Like that time when she and Ed had returned to the Bebop after changing the ship's course to Earth. Jet had been scolding her, but she had just looked at him sadly. So heartbreakingly sadly. This was the way she looked now, he supposed.   
  
  
  
_That smell. The smell of that smoke... I remember it. It's your smell, Spike. I remember the way you smell._   
  
  
  
"So you gonna go back and become a marine biologist, now?" He didn't sound mean, just mildly curious. As if he were asking if it was sunny outside.   
  
  
  
"No."   
  
  
  
_If I left you wouldn't really care, huh? But what if I died? What if I left and then a meteor hit my ship and I died?_   
  
  
  
"Faye?"   
  
  
  
"Yeah?" She was staring at the fan too now.   
  
  
  
"I'm sorry about-"   
  
  
  
"Don't."   
  
  
  
His eyes widened slightly in surprise at her harsh tone.   
  
  
  
_Breathe, Faye. Just breathe. In and out._   
  
  
  
"Whatever you were going to apologize for, I've forgotten about it. So there's no reason to say you're sorry."  
  
  
"Faye, I-"   
"Good night."   
  
  
  
By the time Spike could get up from his seat she was already out of the room.   
  
  
  
_Thump. Thump._   
  
  
  
Her heart felt as if it would leap out of her chest and splatter across the wall.   
  
  
  
_It's _not_ the same, you idiot. Nothing is the same anymore. I don't know who I am. I don't know who I want to be. I don't know if anyone in the world will know me. I don't know if anyone will ever even want to know me..._   
  
  
  
________________________   
  
  
  
It was dark. She could see swirly little intangible green things in the air if she blinked.   
  
  
  
_Who cares about Spike? He has nothing to do me.   
  
  
  
I have nothing to do with him.  
  
  
  
But she had watched his mouth move. His hands. His body.   
  
  
  
Not in lust or infatuation, but in relief. He was really there, in the flesh. And she was glad for that, even if she was angry at herself over it.   
  
She couldn't sleep. The crazy part of her mind was acting up again. The part that made her think things.. things she didn't want to ever think.   
  
  
  
"I'm crazy," she whispered to herself as she got out of bed. Pulling her robe closer to her body, she made her way to the main room. There was still a cigarette left from the pack she had found underneath the couch, she'd saved it for an emergency.   
  
  
  
Tonight was an emergency. A dead man had come back to life. If that didn't count as an emergency, she didn't know what did.   
  
  
  
"Damn," she muttered as her hand found nothing in between the lining of the seats.   
  
  
  
__Click._   
  
  
  
"Looking for this?"   
  
  
  
Faye whipped around at the sound of his voice and silver zippo.   
  
  
  
"I thought you quit," he continued, grinning at her from the doorway, lighting a cigarette.   
  
  
  
"I did."   
  
  
  
He nodded. She wasn't going to make this easy for him, he realized.   
  
  
  
"Good thing you got it first, huh?" she asked quietly, her eyes averting his gaze.   
  
  
  
"Yeah, I guess so."   
  
  
  
_What would you do if I died?_   
  
  
  
He slowly walked towards her.   
  
  
  
_Cause you know what I did when I thought you died?_   
  
  
  
Stopping an arm's length away from where she was standing, Spike rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, looking only the slightest bit uncomfortable.   
  
  
  
_I let go. _   
  
  
  
_I just let it all go._   
  
  
  
"I don't know what to say," he said quietly, "I'm back. And I don't know what else to say."   
  
  
  
"There's nothing else to hear," Faye replied. She was delighted to hear how cold she sounded. So careless. So controlled.   
  
  
  
And then his hand was on her arm, feeling all rough and warm. Shivers ran up and down her arms into her spine.   
  
  
  
"What do you want from me?" Spike asked, sounding impatient. She looked up at him, her heart beating erratically.   
  
  
  
_What do I want?!   
  
  
  
I want to scratch your eyes out. I want you screaming my name. I want to breathe you into my body. I want your hands all over me. I want to slit your throat. I want you to disappear. I want you inside of me. I want you to care. I want you. I wan-_   
  
  
  
"The Faye you used to know isn't here anymore," she said softly, "I'm a different woman. Sorry."   
  
  
  
She didn't know why she felt as if she had to apologize to him, but it was like she was giving him a message. A message of farewell from the old Faye to the returned Spike.   
  
  
  
"You _look_ different."   
  
  
  
"Do I?"   
  
  
  
"Your hair is a little longer, and your face..."   
  
  
  
"My face?" she asked.   
  
  
  
"Yeah, your face is different."   
  
  
  
His long fingers brushed back strands of her violet hair. Her eyes so dark, they looked black.   
  
  
  
"You make me feel weird."   
  
  
  
Spike's smile widened at her admission.   
  
  
  
"Weird? What do you mean?"   
  
  
  
_I feel like the ground is sinking and the sky is crashing down. I feel high, but I couldn't be any lower. You make me forget how to breathe._   
  
  
  
"I don't know...just weird, is all."   
  
  
  
He didn't suddenly realize that Faye was a beautiful woman. He'd always know this. But, at this moment, right now, her face was so beautiful it was starting to _hurt_ him.   
  
  
  
"I look like her right now, don't I?" She regretted the words before she even said them aloud, but she kept going, "all sad and lost. That's how she looked, I remember."   
  
  
  
His hand froze on her face.   
  
  
  
"There's a reason why they say romantics are hopeless, Spike," she heard herself speak but couldn't believe it.   
  
  
  
"Me? A romantic?" he tried to laugh but it just sounded all wrong.   
  
  
  
"Yes. You."   
  
  
  
Her eyes were starting to bother him. They were looking right at him, but not at him. He vaguely wondered if this was how other people felt when they looked into _his_ eyes.   
  
  
  
"I remember your smell," Faye said, "cigarettes and heaven."   
  
  
  
Then he really did laugh.   
  
  
  
"Cigarettes and heaven, huh? You're making me blush, Faye." he said wryly as his hand dropped back to his side.   
  
  
  
"I didn't mean it that way."   
  
  
  
"Then how did you mean it?"   
  
  
  
"I don't know," she answered truthfully, "I just know how you smell."   
  
  
  
The air around them was crackling. Tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.   
  
  
  
"She's not here, anymore," he faltered, "Julia."   
  
  
  
Faye wondered if he knew what he was saying. Spike had always been so careful about what he revealed to others.   
  
  
  
"Neither is Faye Valentine," she told him, "she isn't here anymore, either."   
  
  
  
What was this ache he felt? It felt so foreign, so unwelcomed. It started in the pit of his stomach and was working its way all over.   
  
  
  
_Guilt._   
  
  
  
This sad, broken woman was who she was because of him.   
  
  
  
"Faye, I didn't know that you would turn like this. I-"   
  
  
  
She was laughing. He frowned.   
  
  
  
"You are the most self-important, arrogant man to have ever lived, Spike Spiegel."   
  
  
  
"What?"   
  
  
  
"Don't worry about me. I'm fine. It's just a little hard for me, sometimes, you know. After all, you're not the only person in this world to have lost someone they loved."   
  
  
  
_I'm an idiot,_ he realized, _she lost her whole family and all her friends when her memory came back._   
  
  
  
"Sorry. Look, Faye, I-"   
  
  
  
"Your smell."   
  
  
  
She was standing right in front of him now. Spike looked down and stared at the top of her head.   
  
  
  
"You're smell," she repeated, "it makes me feel strange. Like...I'm floating in it."   
  
  
  
It was like a dream. Real, but not.   
  
  
  
"Uh..Faye?"   
  
  
  
The crazy part of her was acting out, she thought giddily, but she didn't care. She traced an imaginary line from the top of his jawline, down his neck, and stopped at his collarbone.   
  
  
  
"I want to kiss you there."   
  
  
  
He had to strain his ears to hear her now, but he had heard her. Spike cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly felt like a desert. And there was ringing in his ear that seemed to appear out of nowhere. His mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out.   
  
  
  
And then she leaned in, slowly. Her lips brushed against the skin where her fingertips had been. Once, twice.   
  
  
  
"Faye," he said, his voice low.   
  
  
  
_What am I doing?_ she screamed in her mind.   
  
  
  
And then his arms were around her. Holding her. Enveloping her into a safe haven of warmth and sanity.   
  
  
  
_Oh,_ she thought_, so this is why he makes me feel strange.   
  
  
  
Because I feel sane.   
  
  
  
And crazy at the same time._   
  
  
  
"Faye."   
  
  
  
  
Thank you to all those who have reviewed. It made my day. 


	3. sleep to dream

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters. Lyrics from "Sleep to Dream" by Fiona Apple have been used.   
  
  
  
**Sleep To Dream**   
  
  
  
Her face was pressed up against the curve of his neck and shoulder. He felt wonderfully warm to the touch. His scent was intoxicating, sending her mind into a tumultuous whirlwind of bliss and languor. Long, strong arms held her close to him. Tightly. Completely.   
  
  
  
"Faye?"   
  
  
  
She suddenly realized that Spike had been calling her name. As if it caused her great pain to do so, Faye took a step back from him to look up at his face.   
  
  
  
"I'm sorry," he began, "but I'm just not ready for this."   
  
  
  
Her heart stopped beating.   
  
  
  
"I don't think I'm what you need right now."   
  
  
  
_What?!_   
  
  
  
"Faye?"   
  
  
  
She was staring at his chin, her arms felt heavy and her feet impanted to the ground   
  
  
  
"Faye," he said, hesitantly, "do you remember what I told you when I left? I meant what I said that day."   
  
  
  
_You bastard. You fucking bastard._   
  
  
  
Her face was turned away from him, but he could only imagine she was embarrassed and didn't want him to see her blush. Spike kept his tone light, but serious.   
  
  
  
"Turns out this is all still a dream to me. I'm sorry-"   
  
  
  
Her head snapped up and Spike almost stepped back from the look on her face. Fiery emerald eyes mocked him, a smirk playing on her pretty lips. Faye rested a hand on her hip and shrugged.   
  
  
  
She laughed.   
  
  
  
He frowned.   
  
  
  
"Spike, you really need to just relax," she said, "I was just doing you a favor. You looked like you needed a good lay."   
  
  
  
He searched her face for something, not really sure of what it was he wanted to find. But her cool expression didn't waver for a second. Her eyes were unreadable.   
  
  
  
"Is that so?" he asked nonchalantly, recovering quickly from his surprise, but relieved to see the old Faye again. The Faye he knew how to handle.   
  
  
  
She yawned and stretched her arms over her head as she started to walk away.   
  
  
  
"Well, I'm going to get some beauty rest now. Sweet dreams, Spike."   
  
  
  
She stopped in her tracks, looking back at him.   
  
  
  
"Oh wait, I guess 'sweet dreams' wouldn't apply to someone like you, right?"   
  
  
  
He was lighting another cigarette. The flame from his lighter caused shadows to dance across his face.   
  
  
  
"Whatever, Faye."   
  
  
  
She was up the stairs when he called her name, but she only stopped walking, not turning around to face him as he spoke.   
  
  
  
"Hey Faye, offering to sleep with me was really generous of you. I didn't know you cared so much."   
  
  
  
The sarcasm was not missed. Silence ruled the room for the slightest of moments.   
  
  
  
"Well, it was a one-time offer."   
  
  
  
And then she was out of sight.   
  
  
  
________________________   
  
  
  
Faye was angry.   
  
  
  
No, she was _seething._   
  
  
  
Blood boiling-seeing red-shaky breath angry.   
  
  
  
_I'll kill him._   
  
  
  
She couldn't believe that she had allowed this to happen. Her insides screamed as her mind yelled at herself for being so vulnerable. And in front of him of all people.   
  
  
  
_Arrongant, egotistical, cocky, good for nothing-_   
  
  
  
Her ego had not just been bruised, but beaten into a bloody pulp with a metal bat. Sitting in the dark on her bed, Faye struggled to breathe.   
  
  
  
_You will not allow him to do this to you. You will breathe slowly. In and out. Deep, slow breaths._   
  
  
  
Her heart started to beat to a calm pace and her vision cleared as her breaths became more controlled. Her head felt lighter and the raging heat left her body slowly.   
  
  
  
_It was a momentary lapse of judgement. I wasn't thinking._   
  
  
  
Laying back on the bed, Faye stared at the ceiling, her hands over her stomach.   
  
  
  
_This doesn't change anything. I am still in control. I am not the rash, hotheaded Faye Valentine he wants me to be._   
  
  
  
Her heartbeat was completely normal now. A calmness took over her from head to toe.   
  
  
  
_He thinks he knows me, but he doesn't realize how wrong he is, but he'll know._   
  
  
  
She smiled, her eyes closing and welcoming sleep.   
  
  
  
_He'll know soon enough._   
  
  
  
________________________   
  
  
  
The smell of breakfast crept its way around the ship, awakening everything in its path. Or at least, it woke up a disgruntled Spike.   
  
  
  
_Ugh, morning already?_   
  
  
  
He groaned as he got up. Ignoring the urge to jump at the feel of the icy cold floor, he quickly headed towards the bathroom. The promise of a nice, hot shower was more than enough to get him out of bed. He should have known what would happen.   
  
  
  
As he was about to push the door open, a cloud of steam hit him in the face.   
  
  
  
"Did you use up all the hot water?!" he demanded as Faye walked past him, toweling her hair.   
  
  
  
"I don't think so, but if I did I'm sorry."   
  
  
  
Her reply threw him off. He looked suspisciously at her, but she genuinely looked apologetic. Spike scratched his head.   
  
  
  
"Uh, that's all right."   
  
  
  
She smiled sweetly and had him even more confused. Spike was annoyed at himself for not knowing how to act around her. He had never been this uncomfortable around her before, but now...   
  
  
  
"Faye, about last night-"   
  
  
  
"It was all just a dream, right?"   
  
  
  
**Don't make it a big deal, don't be so sensitive   
We're not playing a game anymore; you don't have to be so defensive **   
  
  
  
She gave him a wink before walking off,   
  
  
  
**Don't you plead me your case, don't bother to explain   
Don't even show me your face, 'cuz it's a crying shame   
  
**   
  
leaving him with his mouth open.   
  
  
  
**This mind, this body, and this voice cannot be stifled by your deviant ways   
  
So don't forget what I told you,   
  
don't come around,   
  
I got my own hell to raise **   
  
  
  
  
  
________________________   
  
  
  
It was a wonderful feeling, leaving Spike Spiegel with his mouth hanging open as she had the last laugh. Pulling her shirt over her head, Faye laughed silently to herself.   
  
  
  
_Lunkhead._   
  
  
  
She stopped, frowning.   
  
  
  
_No. Lunkhead is what I used to call him. He doesn't even deserve a nickname from me, anymore._   
  
  
  
She stepped into her boots, ran a brush through her hair, and took a deep breath. Her plans had been put aside yesterday because of a certain dead man's return, but today she would not allow anything to distract her.   
  
  
  
_Sell the Redtail. Buy groceries. Look for a job. Cook dinner._   
  
  
  
Making a mental list always made the day easier. It kept her from making last minute decisions; decisions that usually ended up being horribly bad ones.   
  
  
  
_Like last night._   
  
  
  
Shaking her head to clear the thoughts, she left her room and headed towards the kitchen. Jet was scrambling eggs and peppers. She smiled at the sight.   
  
  
  
"Why is it always peppers?"   
  
  
  
Looking incredibly insulted by her question, Jet scowled at her as she stood next to him.   
  
  
  
Spike entered.   
  
  
  
** You say love is a hell you cannot bear   
And I say gimme mine back and then go there for all I care   
  
**   
  
Dressed in his blue training pants, drops of water still clung to his back and chest. She cursed herself for noticing this. He didn't even look at her as he passed by.   
  
  
  
**I got my feet on the ground and I don't go to sleep to dream   
You got your head in the clouds and you're not at all what you seem   
  
  
  
**She stood firmly, remembering her vow of indifference. If he thought he was in a dream, then she wouldn't give him a reason to think otherwise. Idiot.   
  
  
  
**This mind, this body, and this voice cannot be stifled by your deviant ways   
So don't forget what I told you, don't come around, I got my own hell to raise   
  
  
  
**She wondered just what the hell was wrong with him. How could anyone not realize that they were alive? She had better things to do then care about his fucking "rebel without a cause" bullshit.   
  
  
  
He looked up at her from the table and raised his eyebrows. Daring her to speak first.   
  
  
  
**I have never been so insulted in all my life   
  
  
  
**Faye remembered the way he had been last night. Looking at her with pity, apologizing to her.   
  
  
  
**I could swallow the seas to wash down all this pride   
  
  
  
**Now she met his gaze straight on, challenging him. She was not one to be reckoned with. Not today.   
  
  
  
**First you run like a fool just to be at my side   
And now you run like a fool, but you just run to hide, and I can't abide **   
  
  
  
She smirked when he looked away first, amused at how he pretended to be suddenly interested in Jet's cooking.   
  
  
  
"I think I'll skip breakfast. I've got things to do," she said to Jet.   
  
  
  
"You really going to sell the Redtail, Faye?" Jet frowned, immediately knowing what she was planning on doing. She nodded, fully aware that someone else was hanging onto every word.   
  
  
  
"What? You're getting rid of your ship?!" Spike said incredulously.   
  
  
  
**I got my feet on the ground and I don't go to sleep to dream   
You got your head in the clouds and you're not at all what you seem   
  
  
  
**"What's it to you?"   
  
  
  
It was a fair question, but barely. And she knew it.   
  
  
  
"Nothing," he answered smoothly, looking away from her again.   
  
  
  
"All right, then. Good-bye."   
  
  
  
**So don't forget what I told you,   
  
don't come around,   
  
I got my own hell to raise **   
  
  
  
________________________   
  
  
  
He couldn't help it.   
  
  
  
Walking around restlessly, he awaited her return.   
  
  
  
_If we're going to live on this ship together, we need to straighten things out,_ he told himself.   
  
  
  
He couldn't understand what was going on. Faye Valentine was supposed to yell and get emotional and kick and scream. She was not supposed to be composed and stoically controlled. That was _his_ job, dammit.   
  
And she was most definitely not supposed to be invading his thoughts.   
  
Her skin was so soft, and her scent unmistakably feminine. The way it felt when she had pressed her lips against his throat...   
  
  
  
_Fuck._   
  
  
  
He was lonely and confused he told himself repeatedly. After all, Spike had been nervous before returning to the Bebop. He wasn't sure how he would be received.   
  
No, that was untrue.   
  
He knew, or at least thought he did, how they would react to seeing him again. Jet would gruffly welcome him back, but not without scolding him. And Faye would scream and then yell at him for being so stupid, maybe even hit him.   
  
But she had surprised him.   
  
She had been so...calm about it.   
  
  
  
_She made me pancakes and then left._   
  
  
  
As if she could have cared less about his return. Like it didn't matter.   
  
  
  
_What the hell was that last night?_   
  
  
  
She had said something about his smell, saying it was like cigarettes and heaven. And that he made her feel weird.   
  
  
  
_What the hell is she on about?_   
  
  
  
He laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling fan, trying to imagine the way heaven smelled.   
  
  
  
________________________   
  
  
  
It was dark by the time she returned to the ship. Warm and cool at the same time, a chilly breeze disturbed the mild weather.   
  
Her hands were empty. Faye had lost track of time again and accomplished only one of her goals for the day. The Redtail was gone. She'd been able to get a good price for it, too. She could always buy the groceries tomorrow, and it was too late for dinner.   
  
  
  
_One accomplishment is better than none._   
  
  
  
She sighed, stopping in front of the entrance of the Bebop.   
  
Faye had spent almost the entire day walking around, thinking to herself. That crazy part threatening to leak out and have its way. It kept telling her to do things. Crazy things.   
  
  
  
_Get drunk and see if he'll take advantage of you._   
  
  
  
And that was stupid, because he never would. Ever.   
  
  
  
_Go in that dark alleyway and let some bum rough you up. He'll be sorry about the way he acted when he sees you with a black eye._   
  
  
  
The sad part was that she wasn't even sure he would even care. Spike was always too caught up in everything else to really see her.   
  
  
  
_He saw you last night. You can make him see you again._   
  
  
  
It was difficult for her to silence her thoughts, but she did as she entered the ship. Not wanting to wake anyone up, she took off her shoes so she could walk around quietly.   
  
  
  
_You want him. Don't deny yourself._   
  
  
  
"Shut up," she whispered.   
  
  
  
"I didn't even get to say anything yet," said a voice from behind. She jumped and then silently berated herself for being caught off guard so easily.   
  
  
  
He was leaning against the wall, hidden by the shadows. Faye stood facing him, resting against the opposite wall.   
  
  
_Touch me._   
  
  
  
She hated herself for it, but it could not be helped. Something was happening to her, and it had everything to do with him. The part of her that had come out when he had left had crept up slowly, but she had been able to control it well. Until now.   
  
Now that craziness reared its ugly head out, refusing to be ignored. The part of her that lusted, wanted, needed, hated.   
  
  
  
_Kiss me. Hit me. Push me. Just touch me._   
  
  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked him, her voice strangely hollow.   
  
  
  
He only shrugged, then lit a cigarette. She could feel his eyes on her.   
  
  
  
_You can have me any way you-   
  
  
  
No. No. NO._   
  
  
  
"I'm going to bed," she said abruptly, "have fun doing whatever you're doing."   
  
  
  
But her legs wouldn't move.   
  
  
  
_The dark, that's what it is. It was dark last night, too._   
  
  
  
She watched in horror as he put out the cigarette and stepped out, coming towards her.   
  
  
  
_If he gets too close I won't be able to stop myself._   
  
  
  
"Faye."   
  
  
  
_Shit. Shit. Shit._   
  
  
  
"They must have really fucked with your head, Spike. You've been acting really weird." Faye thanked the gods for her detached tone.   
  
  
  
He stopped, looking at her curiously.   
  
  
  
"Where's your yellow outfit?"   
  
  
  
"I burned it."   
  
  
  
And that was the truth.   
  
  
  
He nodded, a grin spreading on his face.   
  
  
  
_Put your hands on me. All over me._   
  
  
  
Spike vaguely remembered having to tell her something, but at that moment, he couldn't remember for his life what it had been. He stepped closer.   
  
  
  
"Stop."   
  
  
  
Now she sounded shaky and wanted to kill herself for it. He shook his head.   
  
  
  
"No."   
  
  
  
_Oh, God._   
  
  
  
Faye wondered if she was having an anxiety attack. Her heart seemed to want to jump out of her and her lungs were failing miserably. Her brain also seemed to have ceased functioning, as well. Everything was numb, but painfully sensitive.   
  
He didn't know what he was doing, but he knew he had to keep on doing it. The wide-eyed look on her face only encouraged him.   
  
  
  
"Spike."   
  
  
  
She said his name as a warning. He was so close she could reach out and touch him if she wanted. And she wanted to so badly.   
  
  
  
"Am I making you feel weird again?" he asked, his voice teasing and caressing.   
  
  
  
A nod.   
  
  
  
"Good," he said, his face only inches away from hers.   
  
  
  
"You're a cocky son of a bitch." Faye whispered, surprising herself by speaking. She moved towards him and their bodies were touching.   
  
  
  
He looked down at her, she up at him, their arms by their sides. Their faces were so close they could feel each other's breath. Faye stared at his parted lips, her own did the same unconsciously.   
  
  
  
She was getting dizzy. He was so close. Too close, but not close enough.   
  
  
  
The front of her thighs brushed against his, their hips aligned, and her chest was so close to his they coudln't tell whose heartbeat was whose.   
  
  
  
Arms still at their sides, their heads moved in just until their lips were scarcely touching. It was the shyest of touches, not even really a kiss. Mouths slightly opened, they breathed each others' breaths in.   
  
  
  
Slowly.   
  
  
  
Deeply.   
  
  
  
It was the most intimate experience of her life.   
  
  
  
_In and out.   
  
  
  
In   
  
  
  
Out   
  
  
  
  
  
__Just breathe._   
  



	4. and we drown

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters. Lyrics from "Wild Horses" by The Sundays have been used.   
  
  
  
**And We Drown**   
  
  
  
They were frozen. Both afraid to move, afraid that it would shatter the moment. Their lips were burning for more, their bodies crying for more.   
  
The beating of their hearts played them a rhythm. They listened to it as if it were the only thing that existed to them.   
  
  
  
_Save me, Spike._   
  
  
  
Their eyes were closed, but they could see more of each other than they ever did before.   
  
  
  
_I need you to save me._   
  
  
  
"Kiss me," she said softly against his lips, "please."   
  
  
  
And he did.   
  
  
  
It was like a butterfly flappings its light wings against her mouth. Everything came loose. Her breath became unsteady, her hands shaking, her lips quivering.   
  
  
  
**Wild horses couldn't drag me away   
Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away**   
  
  
  
It was hard to tell who moved first, but soon they were tangling themselves in each other. They were drowning in each others' oceans, neither wanting to be pulled out.   
  
  
  
**I watched you suffer a dull, aching pain   
Now you decided to show me the same**   
  
  
  
She wanted to die this way. Be suffocated in all that was him. His pain, fears, loves, flaws. She could feel all of them running through her as they held onto each other. She wanted him to give it all to her, all the pain in the world couldn't surmount to what she felt from him. His unshed tears flowed through her like a river.   
  
  
  
**No sweeping exits or offstage lines,   
Can make me feel bitter or treat you unkind **   
  
  
  
She didn't care about anything else. Everything made sense now, his cool exterior, biting remarks, reckless actions...they all made sense to her now. And they were all forgiven.   
  
  
  
"Spike."   
  
  
  
Her hands clenched fistfuls of the fabric of his sleeves, while his were pulling at the waist of her shirt, trying to bring her even closer to him. They mouths met each others' desperately, again and again.   
  
  
  
**Wild horses couldn't drag me away   
Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away**   
  
  
  
He pushed her gently into the room, both stumbling clumsily onto the bed. Faye was crying, but she didn't even notice. She didn't care.   
  
  
  
**I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie,   
I have my freedom, but I don't have much time**   
  
  
  
"I need you right now," he said throatily, "hurry."   
  
  
  
She nodded, only half listening as she pulled his shirt over his head. Nothing else mattered. She made no attempt to keep any part of her hidden, the crazy part, the sane part. It was all just tumbling out into the open, all for him to touch and see.   
  
  
  
**Faith has been broken, tears must be cried,   
Let's do some living after we die**   
  
  
  
They clung to each other. Desperately. Frantically.   
  
  
  
Spike lifted his head, panting, his dark eyes burning with urgency.   
  
  
  
"Faye, look at me."   
  
  
  
**Wild Horses couldn't drag me away   
Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away**   
  
  
  
Her eyes opened, wet, salty tears streaming from them.   
  
  
  
"I want to see you," he told her.   
  
  
  
No explanation was needed. She simply held onto his shoulders, watching him take her. Noses touching, bodies moving to a rhythm neither knew but understood.   
  
  
  
They didn't dare to look away from each other, even as the rest of their bodies were trembling.   
  
  
  
Skin moving up against skin, clothing sliding onto the floor, sheets thrown to the side. Neither could remember a time they were more frightened.   
  
  
  
"Please."   
  
  
  
It didn't matter who said it, they both meant it. He then filled her so completely, so entirely. They rode on a wave of tears and pleasure. Their minds emptied, their bodies filled.   
  
  
  
They let themselves be swallowed whole.   
  
  
  
**Let's do some living after we die**   
  
________________________   
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Note: I added this last minute. I wanted it to be its own chapter, even if it's a lot shorter than the others. Thanks for reading. 


	5. state the terms

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters.   
  
  
  
**State The Terms**   
  
  
  
**Faye**   
  
  
  
It's strange.   
  
  
  
The moment we stopped touching, it was as if nothing had happened.   
  
  
  
No, that's not true. Something had definitely happened, because right now, Spike and I are lying next to each other on my bed. We're both staring at the ceiling, sheets drawn up to cover our bodies.   
  
  
  
Strange.   
  
  
  
Just a few minutes ago, we were holding onto each other like it would kill us to do otherwise. I'm sure I left scratch marks down his back. My lips were swollen, his probably were, too.   
  
  
  
I know he's awake.   
  
  
  
The thing is, I'm not really sure how this all came to be. When everything was normal, or at least, normal to _us_, I didn't feel this way about Spike. He was just this guy that I lived and worked with...   
  
  
  
...and cared about.   
  
  
  
We always fought and there were times where I really thought I wanted to wring his neck, but I cared about him. I never wanted him to get hurt, and I hated it when he came back half dead. Which he did fairly often.   
  
  
  
I guess I had a crush on him.   
  
  
  
Not that I had wanted to be his girlfriend, but I just really admired him. He was so damn good at everything. He always knew how to handle himself. I respected that. Grudgingly.   
  
  
  
They say you become attracted to those who have the qualities in which you lack.   
  
  
  
And Spike had everything I lacked. A past, an iron grip on his emotions, power. Yeah, he had _power_. He just knew how to get the upper hand with the people around him. He could be charming, menacing, and ridiculously clever... all at the same time. Women love men like that.   
  
  
  
But now...   
  
  
  
I don't have a crush on him anymore. That's for sure. I'd spent all this time not thinking about him, forgetting that Spike Spiegel ever existed. To be completely honest, it wasn't as hard as you'd expect. There was so much else going on with me that Spike kind of took a backseat to it all.   
  
  
  
I remembered my parents. My friends. My house. My school.   
  
  
  
And then I remembered it all disappearing. Everything I ever had came back to me, only for it to be taken away quicker than it had appeared.   
  
  
  
That's when I started to become crazy.   
  
  
  
Faye Valentine the Bounty Hunter was me, but she wasn't. Neither was the Faye Before the Accident. You see, they're both me, but all they do is bring conflict and confusion. I have these two extremes inside of me, but no middle ground.   
  
  
  
Hotheaded, loudmouthed Faye vs. Sweet, well-mannered Faye.   
  
  
  
So I spend most of my time being neither. I just ignore it all.   
  
  
  
I try not to feel.   
  
  
  
And I was getting quite good at it... until he came back.   
  
  
  
I have this crazy part inside of me. It makes me think all these weird thoughts. Thoughts I would die before revealing to anyone else. I imagine myself being killed, or tortured. Sometimes I spend hours in bed, just thinking of all the ways my life can be taken away from me.   
  
  
  
I'm crazy.   
  
  
  
I think about hurting myself. Just to see what would happen.   
  
  
  
Nothing really matters. I have nothing. I am nothing.   
  
  
What is there to live for anymore?   
  
  
  
I don't know.   
  
  
  
I'm not afraid to die. I'm just going through the motions of living life.   
  
  
  
But I want this to change. I want to be happy.   
  
  
  
I know I can be.   
  
  
  
I just don't know how.   
  
  
  
________________________   
  
  
  
**Spike**   
  
  
  
I was supposed to tell her that we needed to stop acting like idiots and start getting our acts together.   
  
  
  
That's what I had forgotten to say.   
  
  
  
But instead, I kissed her. And now, we're in her bed. Naked.   
  
  
  
I always end up making things harder than then have to be.   
  
  
  
  
  
________________________   
  
  
  
It only took the slightest shift from her side of the bed for him to reach out for her. Pulling her towards him, they laid in silence in each other's arms. It was still dark outside, morning would not yet bring its consequences.   
  
  
  
"We're so young."   
  
  
  
She whispered it, her head tucked beneath his chin.   
  
  
  
"But we're so old," she continued, her voice low, "I've been in this world for so long. I should have passed on by now."   
  
  
  
He listened, his fingertips trailing up and down the smoothness of her back.   
  
  
  
"And you, Spike. You've lived more than once. How many times have you died?"   
  
  
  
"Too many," he answered grimly.   
  
  
  
She lazily traced small circles on his shoulder, her eyes staring but not seeing.   
  
  
  
"What are people like us supposed to do? We can never have normal lives."   
  
  
  
"Normal sounds boring to me," Spike replied, smiling.   
  
  
  
She sighed.   
  
  
  
"Normal is wonderful. I knew what it meant once, Spike. Normal means family."   
  
  
  
"We're young, remember? We've got plenty of time to figure out what to do with our lives."   
  
  
  
"I wish I was dead."   
  
  
  
He paused, understanding the wish, but fighting against it.   
  
  
  
"The more you want to meet death, the more it keeps you alive. I would know."   
  
  
  
He sounded bitter. Faye lifted her head slightly so she could kiss the side of his jaw. He held her closer.   
  
  
  
"I'm looking for somewhere to belong. And this isn't it, Spike."   
  
  
  
He touched her hair, letting it fall through his fingers.   
  
  
  
"I know."   
  
  
  
"And you're going to leave again. And you won't come back"   
  
  
  
He didn't answer.   
  
  
  
Faye took a deep breath, closing her eyes.   
  
  
  
"I'll ask you for one thing, then."   
  
  
  
"What is it?"   
  
  
  
Pulling away from him, she let her eyes meet his. Her hand touched the side of his face gently.   
  
  
  
"When you leave me-"   
  
  
  
"Faye, I-"   
  
  
  
"Just let me finish, Spike. Please?"   
  
  
  
Taking his silence as a sign, she gathered her thoughts, realizing how important it was for her to choose her words carefully.   
  
  
  
"When you leave me, don't apologize. Don't give me any pretty words. Don't make me any promises."   
  
  
  
Spike searched her eyes, they only showed a sort of deep resignation. Like a frontline soldier accepting his death.   
  
  
  
"This won't be about flowers and love letters. We're passed that."   
  
  
  
"Then what will this be about?"   
  
  
  
"Belonging."   
  
  
  
"Faye."   
  
  
  
"For the time that we have, I want to belong to you. And you to me."   
  
  
  
"What about when our time is up?"   
  
  
  
"Then we say good-bye."   
  
  
  
"Good-bye. That's it...no pretty words."   
  
  
  
"No pretty words."   
  
  
  
  
  
_No pretty words._   
  
  
  



	6. undo what's done

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters. Lyrics from "Uninvited" by Alanis Morisette have been used.   
  
Author's Note: I have no idea how woolongs work. So if the numbers seem off, I apologize.   
  
  
  
**Undo What's Done**   
  
  
  
It was supposed to be anything but awkward.   
  
  
  
But that was how it become between them. The next three days were...strange, and just awkward enough for Jet to notice, but to ignore. There was a bounty they were tracking down, so during the day they were out and Faye would be on her own.   
  
Every night, Spike would go into Faye's room, but only when it was late. She would already be in bed and he would crawl in next to her. They would kiss, murmur pleasantries, and then sleep.   
  
But come the morning, he would be gone. Always before she would wake up, he would slip out of her room. During breakfast, there would be silence. And then he was off for the day. Three days and nights of this: silence and awkwardness.   
  
She supposed she should have expected it. After all, it had all happened so suddenly. And, in a way, they were strangers. He spoke nothing of what had happened during the time he had been gone. She didn't tell him how the nothingness was starting to eat at her, more and more each day.   
  
They were not even sleeping with each other.   
  
Well, in the literal sense they were, but after that one night, neither had attempted to do more than lie in each other's arms. And maybe kiss. But, that was all.   
  
  
  
_I did say 'no pretty words.'_   
  
  
  
She didn't want him to tell her that he loved her or that he missed her. She didn't expect pet names or any real terms of endearment. Or flowers. Or candy.   
  
She just wanted... to feel at home with him.   
  
  
  
_I could stay awake all night and not let him leave when morning comes._   
  
  
  
Today was the fourth day. The fourth day of waking up to find him gone. The fourth day of a silent morning. Spike and Jet would be back soon, though. All the time they had spent on finding this particular bounty seemed to have paid off, for Jet had called in earlier to let her know they had caught the criminal. After they received their bounty, they would be back. With a lot of money.   
  
She wondered if they knew what she did while they were out. She'd gotten a good deal when she'd sold her Redtail, 500, 000 woolongs. She vaguely remembered the time she had first met them, they had locked her in the bathroom and handcuffed her, and Spike had told her that he would sell it for 400K. She smiled at the memory.   
  
  
  
_Never underestimate the power of showing a little leg._   
  
  
  
She had made a deal with herself. Save half, and "invest" the other half of the 500, 000. But she was not as reckless as she had been before. She still had the quick eyes and hands, the Poker Alice in her had not faded. But now she had the advantage of being more calculated, more patient. Gambling was only dangerous if you let it become dangerous. Faye had been extremely careful.   
  
The 250,000 woolongs she gambled had tripled. She now had more than 1 million woolongs. And since the creditors wouldn't be bothering her anymore...   
  
She laughed.   
  
A few weeks ago, Faye had decided to talk to a lawyer. A _real_ lawyer. She didn't know why she had not thought of it sooner. But, after the Whiteney incident, she had been hesitant in asking anyone for help. But, she was glad she did. She smiled while thinking of the 40-something woman who had helped her. A ball-breaking, smack talking, avid feminist, Mary Hegi had made quite the impression on Faye. She had listened to her story with widened eyes and vehement determination. It only took Mary a half hour in a room with the creditors for her debts to disappear. A half hour of outraged accusations of malpractice and insurance fraud and everything else in the book. Now that she thought about it, Faye should have known that the phony doctor and lawyer were grounds for her to sue. But, the old Faye had been too brash to think about things like that.   
  
Faye wondered how Mary was, contemplating on contacting her. After all, she had told Faye to keep in touch. They had gotten along well.   
  
Faye had needed female companionship more than ever at that time. And now... she needed to get her act together. Maybe Mary could help her out.   
  
  
  
"Faye!"   
  
  
  
Jet's booming voice started her from her thoughts.   
  
  
  
_That's his happy voice, isn't it?_   
  
  
  
She watched from where she sat as the two men entered the room. Jet was carrying a puppy. A tiny little brown thing with big shiny eyes.   
  
  
  
"What's with the dog, jet?" she asked carefully. The dog barked, as if it were happy to be acknowledged.   
  
  
  
"We found him," Jet answered, as if that explained everything. Faye hid her smile.   
  
  
  
  
  
_Always taking in one stray after another._   
  
  
  
She watched as he took the puppy up the stairs, undoubtedly to give it food and a tour. She felt eyes on her.   
  
  
  
"What's its name?" she asked.   
  
  
  
Spike was standing at the end of the room, looking a little tired. He shrugged, turning his face away from hers.   
  
  
  
_So that's how it's gonna be._   
  
  
  
Faye sighed and sat up. With one last glance at him, she started to leave.   
  
  
  
"Faye."   
  
  
  
She refused to turn around, but she turned her head slightly, to let him know she was listening.   
  
  
  
"Come outside with me."   
  
  
  
He didn't wait to see if she would follow. He knew she would.   
  
It was about to get dark. The air was shifting gears, ready to abandon its warmth for the cold. They stood next to each other, close enough to touch if they wanted.   
  
Faye rubbed her bare arms, her t-shirt did little to protect her from the weather. Spike was smoking, hands in his pockets, eyes staring off into the distance.   
  
She looked away from him, her heart feeling heavy. She let out a loud sigh, already weary.   
  
  
  
"Long day?" he asked, glancing sideways at her. His eyes always made her nervous and ready at the same time.   
  
  
  
"Long life," she answered. Faye went closer to him, until they were facing each other.   
  
  
  
It was quiet for a moment. But only a moment.   
  
  
  
"It used to be simple between us, Faye."   
  
  
  
"I was a different person then. So were you."   
  
  
  
He nodded. She looked up at him, her eyes so intense he had to look away. Spike stared at her forehead, instead. Her head was against his shoulder, her arms encircling his waist.   
  
  
  
**Like anyone would be   
I am flattered by your fascination with me**   
  
  
  
This was too strange. Her looking at him like that. Faye was defnitely a different person. Before he had left, he had not paid enough attention to her. Now, all he noticed was her.   
  
  
  
_What's happened?_   
  
  
  
He hadn't meant for it turn out like this. It was too much. Too intense. Too _involved._   
  
  
  
**I have simply wanted an object to crave**   
  
  
  
It was wrong to try to replace his Julia. It was wrong for him to be alive. It was all just wrong... He had only wanted to _feel something_ again.   
  
  
  
**But you, you're not allowed   
You're uninvited**   
  
  
  
Faye held onto him like she was trying to get inside of him. He heard her whisper his name, the way some people whisper a prayer to God when they were desperate for something.   
  
  
  
**An unfortunate slight**   
  
  
  
He wanted to push her away and laugh at her, all so that she could hate him. But he couldn't. He stroked her hair, brushed his lips against her temple. All while trying to keep his breath steady.   
  
  
  
**Must be strangely exciting   
To watch the stoic squirm**   
  
  
  
He was the calm, breezy one who didn't give a damn. Or, that was what he was supposed to be. But right now, he couldn't help himself. The hole that Julia's passing had left in him needed mending. He just needed to fill it. Even just a little.   
  
  
  
**Must be somewhat heartening   
To watch shepherd need shepherd**   
  
  
  
They were the same. Both strong, both had their pasts as their weaknesses. But they stood alone well. They knew how to live by themselves, relying only on their pure instinct. However, the burden they carried had gotten too heavy for them to carry it themselves.   
  
But Faye was not supposed to be the one to help him.   
  
  
  
**But you you're not allowed   
You're uninvited   
An unfortunate slight**   
  
  
  
She was not supposed to be the one he was holding. The thought made him sick. He wished himself dead.   
  
  
  
"I can feel your mind. It's going so fast," she whispered, looking up to face him. His face was serious, but blank. It was always like this. Faye searched his face, willing him to reveal himself.   
  
  
  
  
  
**Like any uncharted territory   
I must seem greatly intriguing**   
  
  
  
She looked at him as if he were answer, he realized. Like he was the key to whatever it was she needed opened. Or locked. _If she only knew_.   
  
  
  
"It's her," she said, "you're thinking of her, aren't you?"   
  
  
  
It was too much to bear. Spike looked away.   
  
  
  
"It hurts, I know," she said softly, "I know it hurts. But-"   
  
  
  
"Faye, please don't."   
  
  
  
  
  
**You speak of my love like   
You have experienced love like mine before**   
  
  
  
No one could know what he felt. No one could know how it possibly felt to hold onto the one thing you cherish, the only one you deemed sacred, and have her die in your arms. Especially not Faye. She didn't know anything.   
  
But he still wanted her there, next to him. And that was what made him pull away.   
  
  
  
**But this is not allowed   
You're uninvited   
An unfortunate slight**   
  
  
  
She was making him feel. Making him wake up.   
  
  
  
"We need to rethink this. I don't see how this is good for either of us, Faye."   
  
  
  
He fought to keep his voice steady, his tone collected. He didn't like the look in here eyes. It was as if she knew why he was acting this way.   
  
  
  
"Oh, Spike-"   
  
  
  
"Belonging isn't that important."   
  
  
  
He wanted to take his own fist and smash it into his face. Even if it were for a short time, he had led her to believe that there was something between them. Regardless of the promise they had made, the knowledge that it would only be temporary. But even that was too much.   
  
  
  
**I don't think you unworthy   
I need a moment to deliberate**   
  
  
  
"This happened too quickly."   
  
  
  
  
And then her green eyes dimmed.   
  
  



	7. offstage exits

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters.   
  
  
  
**Offstage Exits**   
  
  
  
  
  
**Faye**   
  
  
  
You know what kills me?   
  
  
  
I mean, besides the fact that last night Spike rejected me. The thing that kills me isn't that.   
  
What makes all this wretched, what eats away at me is that I _understand._   
  
I understand why he did what he did. Not just him turning away from me, but just everything. I understand why he loved Julia. I understand the way he hated Vicious. I understand the reason he left us to meet death.   
  
  
  
I understand _him._   
  
  
  
Even before he left, I knew what he was about. You see, behind all my loud and obnoxious comments, my arrogant and belligerent manner, my tiny yellow hotpants...behind it all, I saw through everything. I'm not stupid. I'm not going to say that I agreed with him, or that I even could grasp the true essence of what makes him the person he is, but I understood it all.   
  
I don't hate her. Julia, that is. When I met her, I liked her enough. The thing with most pretty girls is that they compete with each other. I'm not like that. I know I'm good looking. If there is one thing, just one, that I am sure about, it's that I look good. I know that sounds conceited, but it's not. I don't think I'm the most beautiful woman in the world, not even close, but I can use my looks to get what I want. Most of the time. And as a woman, I notice other women.   
  
Julia was beautiful. In that classic, almost generic kind of way. Long, wavy blonde hair, navy blue eyes, perfect oval face. But I think it's the way she would hold herself that made her stand out. She had this air about her, cool and elegant. Sophisticated and dangerous. She was cool.   
  
But her looks didn't intimidate me. The reason being that she was like me, in a way. She knew that she was beautiful, but she didn't think much of it. It was just a fact. And she didn't care what I looked like, she didn't give me that catty once-over that most girls give each other. So I liked her.   
  
And you gotta admire the girl for winning Spike over. I mean, really. This is Spike Spiegel. He's untouchable.   
  
I wonder what it took for him to fall for her.   
  
Was it love at first sight? Friends first? Enemies?   
  
Anyway, Spike loved Julia. No, scratch that. Spike _loves_ Julia. And I can't blame him. I could see where he's coming from. Not that it doesn't hurt my pride, God knows I have to fight to see this all clearly, without my wounded pride getting in the way. From what I've gathered, Julia was the only person in the world that made Spike give a damn about anything. She made him want to change.   
  
You wanna know if a man really loves you?   
  
Ask him to give it all up. His life, friends, money. Everything. See if he would sacrifice it all just for you. And Spike did.   
  
He gave it all up for her.   
  
And it's tragic. It really is. She died. Just when they were reunited, she got killed. The one thing in his life that mattered was gone.   
  
  
  
I understand.   
  
  
  
I'm not Julia. I'm in no position to try and replace her, nor do I want to.   
  
  
  
I'm a mess.   
  
  
  
I had parents. Amazing people. And I was an only child, so I was a little spoiled. Oh, but they were so amazing. In a ridiculously stereotypical kind of way.   
  
I had the kind of mother other girls would die for. The kind that you can actually talk to, about boys, school, relationships. She didn't try to talk down to me, she listened to me. She actually listened to what I had to say, and we would talk things over. She wasn't the type to yell and ground me. Most teenagers don't want to be seen with their mothers, but I was always with mine. We went shopping together, rented corny chick flicks together. She was my best friend.   
  
And my dad. He was the one to teach me what life is all about. He worked hard for my mother and me. I was a daddy's girl. I don't remember a time he refused anything I asked for, but at the same time he made sure I earned it. Respect was a big thing with him. I had to work for it. He was the kind of man other people looked up to. Making him proud was the sole purpose of my existence for a long, long time.   
  
I had a huge house. A room full of dolls. I was voted Class President in high school. I was even head cheerleader. I had it all. It was disgustingly perfect.   
  
Well, not _perfect_. I had the occasional fight with my parents, sometimes I got a little too competitive with my friends, almost flunked chemistry and biology. I hated science. I never really cared for it. Still don't. And my pride has been notorious for getting me into trouble.   
  
But besides all those little things, what I'm trying to say is that I had this wonderful life. The kind of life people dream about, I had it all.   
  
  
  
And so the way I see it is... my old life is Julia.   
  
  
  
It was the world. It was everything. Nothing else existed or mattered.   
  
  
  
And none of it is mine anymore.   
  
  
  
It's all gone. And I'll never have it again. You see, when you have everything, and then it gets taken away from you, your life loses its purpose. Because I know what it feels like to have it all, and knowing that I can never have that again... it _kills._   
  
Knowing that my dad won't walk me down the aisle, that my mother won't ever brush my hair before I go to bed, that my friends' birthdays won't be celebrated anymore.... knowing all that _kills_ me. It rips me apart.   
  
When I think about it, my head hurts. My heart starts to cry, my hands clench, my chin trembles, my eyes burn. I have to tell myself to breathe, or else I'll have a nervous breakdown.   
  
I don't know how to put it into words. It's the worst kind of pain. It hurts in a way that makes my whole body stiff. It hurts in a way that squeezes my heart and pierces my lungs. It just _hurts._   
  
  
  
So I know how Spike feels.   
  
  
  
Because if he even feels the tiniest bit of grief that I feel...   
  
  
  
I don't know what I'm trying to do with him. I know that he doesn't love me. I know that I will never make him feel the way Julia made him feel. I know that he's not the one who's going to save me from this nightmare, no matter how many times I tell myself that maybe he can.   
  
  
  
But I'm the only one who can do that.   
  
  
  
I just want to believe that someone wants to save me. Someone besides myself. I just need to know that I'm not in this world alone. I need to know that I can lean on someone if I get tired, that someone will catch me if I stumble. I need a hand to hold when I get scared, I need a smile to let me know it's going to be all right.   
  
  
  
Because this cross that I'm carrying... it's too heavy.   
  
  
  
I don't know how much longer I can hold it.   
  
  
  
_____________________________________   
  
  
  
She was wearing a skirt.   
  
  
  
It was a light minty green, and fell in a straight line from her hips to a little above her knees. She had on a little white t-shirt, revealing just a sliver of her flat stomach. Her sandals were the color of straw... and seemed to be made of it, too. They went around her feet and wrapped around her thin ankles.   
  
It was late afternoon, and Spike sat outside with an unopened bottle of scotch and fresh pack of cigarettes, saving the liquor for when the sky turned black.   
  
Faye was returning to the Bebop, and when she saw him sitting there she stopped. He wasn't looking at her, but they both knew that he knew she was there. Squawking sea gulls flew around, the sky a fiery orange.   
  
As if on cue, he stood up, reaching in his front pocket for his lighter. Faye stood silently, watching him inhale the smoke and roll his neck.   
  
"Nice day," he observed. Spike looked at her now, his face so blank a canvas that it seemed to cry for a painter.   
  
  
  
Faye was no artist.   
  
  
  
"Yeah, it is," she answered. She hesitated before walking towards him. They both looked out into the distance, she imagined they made the perfect scene for a romantic movie.   
  
His jacket was off, and his tie was loose. His hair looked more unruly than usual, eyes tired and dark, his mouth was set in a grim line, stubble growing on his chin. He hadn't shaved in 3 days.   
  
  
  
She thought he looked beautiful.   
  
  
  
"I'm dying," she whispered, not realizing she was thinking aloud.   
  
Spike turned to look at her, but her solemn eyes were not meeting his. Her hair whipped around her face as the wind picked up.   
  
"We all are," he answered. Their eyes met, and she nodded.   
  
  
  
**No sweeping exits or offstage lines,   
can make me feel bitter or treat you unkind**   
  
  
  
  
  
It's a short chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for your reviews. 


	8. matters of emotion

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters. Lyrics ( in bold ) are by Amanda Marshall.   
  
  
  
**Matters of Emotion**   
  
  
  
Spike was like a cheesecake. A cheesecake that suddenly turned up while you're diligently following a strict diet.   
  
  
  
You tell yourself that you're going to be strong, that you won't give in to your evil sweet tooth. You give yourself a pep talk each morning, congratulate your will power on its resistance. Everytime you order the salad you win a battle, every bottle of mineral water is a sign of victory.   
  
And then one day you walk into the kitchen to find a cheesecake on the table with a fork and plate, just waiting for you.   
  
And you have to have it. Not just have a little piece or nibble, but eat the entire cake in just one sitting. You want to because you've held out for so damn long and you deserve it. Besides, one cheesecake out of 50 salads isn't going to make you fat.   
  
But then you know how it'll turn out. You know that after you finish off the last little crumb, you'll feel disgusted and guilty. You'll want to stick your finger down your throat and rid yourself of the evidence. You'll hate yourself for being so weak. That one cheesecake could be the end of your diet.   
  
And so, Spike was just that cheesecake.   
  
When the temptation wasn't in front of you, it was so easy to ignore it. You could pretend that it wasn't there, it didn't exist. And then you convince yourself that you don't even _need_ that cheesecake, you don't even want it. You'll take the garden salad with low-fat dressing on the side, thank you very much.   
  
  
  
But then you _see_ it.   
  
  
  
You can taste the rich and tender cake in your mouth, feel its creamy consistency on your tongue. You know the way it'll melt and contort into a smooth, velvety sliver of heaven in your mouth.   
  
  
  
All you had to do was walk out of the kitchen and ignore it.   
  
  
  
But Faye was already sitting at the table.   
  
  
  
_________________________________   
  
  
  
So they sat next to each other, letting their hearts be quiet, their minds be still. He smoked his cigarettes, she breathed it in secondhand. The idea that he was slowly poisoning her seemed oddly fitting.   
  
The bottle of whiskey still stayed unopened, and neither could really find the heart to open it. The sky was melting from a brilliant orange into a fateful blue. The sea gulls were no longer polluting the quietness. Faye ran her hands down the front of her skirt, wondering what he was thinking. His eyes told her that he was somewhere else.   
  
  
  
**Why am I lonely   
You're sitting right here**   
  
  
  
Her legs dangled off the edge of the deck, her hair danced whenever the breeze flew across her face. She wanted to remember this moment, everything about it. Concentrating, she slowly stored it all into her memory.   
  
She would remember the way the sky looked as though it were on fire, the way the wind blew the scent of smoke and saltwater to her nose. She would never forget how her heart begged her to stand up and leave.   
  
He flicked the butt of his finished cigarette into the water. Ever so slightly, he let his dusky eyes meet hers. And that famous grin, that cocky, slow smirk, widened as she smiled softly at him.   
  
"Not going to drink that?" she asked, nodding her head towards the bottle neside him.   
  
"Not now," he drawled out, turning away from her.   
  
  
  
**Why am I talking   
It's like I'm talking to the air**   
  
  
  
He always did that. Then and now. So cool, so unaffected. She'd never been one to swoon at the sight of a smile, but it made her pulse quicken, it made her heart sadden.   
  
  
  
**What am I looking for   
That just isn't there**   
  
  
  
_Breathe, Faye.   
  
Slowly, In.   
  
Out.   
  
Don't forget to breathe._   
  
  
  
It was hard, because a moment like this could cause her will to just crumble. All the resistance she had built up last night could vanish. Just like that. All because of a smile. A smile that made her feel like she was a little child. Part of her hated him for that.   
  
  
  
**Why am I angry   
How'd it get so bad **   
  
  
  
Faye just wanted to breathe. To let it all in, and then let it all out. She'd been holding it in for as long as she could remember.   
  
  
  
**And why am I missing   
What we never really had **   
  
  
  
She opened her mouth, afraid, but ready, to speak. To tell him what was happening with her. To tell him that she scared herself because she didn't know who she was. To spill out all her fears for the future, the trepidation of the unknown. She wanted to know if he felt it, too. She needed to know that he did.   
  
  
  
_Spike. Listen. Just listen._   
  
  
  
**Why don't you feel things   
As deep as I do**   
  
  
  
Their gazes did not waver, but held each others', not boldly, but questioningly. She tried to see the eye that he'd told her about, the one that wasn't real. She wanted to know which one it was, because she only wanted to see through the real one.   
  
  
  
**We've got a fundamental difference   
In matters of emotion **   
  
  
  
"Are you scared?" she whispered, as if no one was supposed to hear.   
  
"Of what?" he asked. She looked down at his jaw, marveling at the hard lines that made up his face.   
  
"Me."   
  
  
  
**But I need to feel you need me   
Like a river needs an ocean**   
  
  
  
His left eyebrow was raised, but she only waited for his response.   
  
"Faye..." he started, "I'm scared _for_ you."   
  
"Me, too," she said, laughing softly, "I'm scared for me, too."   
  
  
  
**Who am I kidding   
It wasn't meant to be **   
  
  
  
Even though she knew she would regret it, Faye leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. It was innocent enough, even when he put his arm around her shoulders.   
  
  
  
_In. Out._   
  
  
  
She couldn't even remember the last time she was able to do this, just let someone hold her weight for her. It was nice. Temporary, but nice.   
  
"I'm so tired, Spike. I'm just tired."   
  
It was surprising. He was laying his hand over hers. The gesture was enough to make her cry.   
  
  
  
**But you wanted a believer   
And I needed to believe **   
  
  
  
"I don't want to take care of you, Faye. I'm not responsible for you."   
  
  
  
But his hand didn't leave hers, his arms stayed on her shoulders.   
  
  
  
**For every wall you built around you   
I learned a brand new way to climb**   
  
  
  
"I don't want to... but I think I need to."   
  
  
  
"I don't know who I am, Spike. I can't think without having to fight with myself."   
  
  
  
Her voice was trembling, but strong. He held her a little tighter when he felt her body tense.   
  
  
  
"I have nothing..."   
  
  
  
He understood that feeling.   
  
  
  
"You have your life," he said.   
  
  
  
"Sometimes it's not enough."   
  
  
  
"It's all that you really need. Everything else is out of your control. Your life is the only thing that you can call your own."   
  
  
  
**I don't understand you   
What's it take to make you cry**   
  
  
  
"I need more... more than this, Spike."   
  
  
  
He hesitated, wanting to stop, but needing to keep going.   
  
  
  
"I don't know if I can give you what you need, Faye. I don't know if I can give you anything... or if I even want to."   
  
  
  
**And if leaving you don't break you   
Then baby what's it matter why**   
  
  
  
"Just... just hold onto me. Hold me like I'm yours."   
  
  
  
When he brought her closer to him, her face tilted up. It was painful. He was tired of this look, the look women always seemed to give him when they were in his arms. It was a sad look, a doomed one.   
  
  
  
"Faye-"   
  
  
  
"Closer."   
  
  
  
**We've got a fundamental difference   
In matters of emotion **   
  
  
  
He stopped, knowing he needed to be held just as much as she did.   
  
  
  
"Be mine, just for now. Please."   
  
  
  
When their lips touched, their hearts cried. They stayed that way for a moment, their lips touching and not moving.   
  
  
  
She shifted her body so that he could put both his arms around her. She gently kissed the corner of his mouth. And then the other.   
  
When his head lowered, their foreheads touched. They could hear each other breathe. Spike brushed his mouth across hers, reveling in the softness of her lips.   
  
They kissed like it was their first tme. Shyly, hesitantly.   
  
  
  
_Just be mine. Let me be yours._   
  
  
  
She held onto the lapels of his jacket, bringing him in closer.   
  
  
  
**But I need to feel you need me   
Like a river needs an ocean**   
  
  
  
It was dark now, only the lights from the city allowed them vision. They should have stopped, for anyone could see them, but they didn't.   
  
First was his tie, she slowly untied and slid it off his neck, all while staring into his eyes. Then his jacket was off.   
  
"Are you sure about this?" his voice was husky, slightly strained. But he held her face in his hands as he asked it.   
  
  
  
"Yes."   
  
  
  
So he lifted her onto his lap, so that they were facing each other, her legs around his waist. Her hands wandered over his back, underneath his shirt and over his chest, his face. She loved the way he was kissing her. He'd start softly, then deepen it, then kiss her neck, or her ear. All before returning to her lips.   
  
His hands brushed back her hair, and she lifted herself up slowly, using his shoulders to support her. She felt his hands run up underneath her skirt and down the back of her thighs, the rustle of fabric being removed, the sharp intake of breath as he let her push the waist of his pants away.   
  
It was good this way, so intimate. The front of their bodies pressed up against each other. They made love with their clothes on, trying to stay quiet for fear of being discovered. He felt her hot breath as she slowly moved up and down, their faces touching.   
  
  
  
**But I need to feel you need me   
Like a river needs an ocean**   
  
  
  
They were panting when they finished, still holding onto each other. He kissed her fully on the mouth. A sheen of perspiration covering both their faces, they laughed.   
  
  
  
"Spike."   
  
  
  
"What is it?"   
  
  
  
She reached for his tie, and then slowly began to tie it around his neck.   
  
  
  
"I understand."   
  
  
  
He didn't ask what, or how.. because as he searched her face, he knew she really did.   
  
  
  
"Good."   
  
  
  
"Make me feel good. That's all I want."   
  
  
  
She played with the collar of his shirt, then removed an imaginary piece of lint off his chest.   
  
  
  
"I thought you didn't want to hear any pretty words."   
  
  
  
"I don't."   
  
  
  
He nodded, kissing her cheek.   
  
  
  
"Don't ask too much of me, Faye."   
  
  
  
"I won't."   
  
  
  
**And if I could've been your angel   
I would've found a way to fly**   
  



	9. saw you suffer

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters.   
  
  
  
**Saw You Suffer**   
  
  
  
He wasn't used to this kind of freedom.   
  
  
  
He didn't have to look over his shoulder when they walked together side by side. There was no need for whispered meetings or quick getaways. He didn't have to meet her in dark alleyways or hand her secret notes.   
  
  
  
None of it was necessary.   
  
  
  
If he wanted to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear for her, he didn't have to look around before doing so. And when the urge to touch the small of her back while he passed by her came, he didn't need to worry. This week had been quite the eye-opener for Spike.   
  
He'd never been able to experience any of those things with Julia. The simple joys of being in a relationship had never been granted to them.   
  
  
  
_Faye and I are... in a relationship?_   
  
  
  
She was making breakfast, pancakes. Extra fluffy, just the way he liked them. He watched as she wiped her hands on the front of her pants, leaving behind flour handprints. Her hair was gathered at the nape of her neck, wispy bangs framing her small face. He liked the way she was stirring the batter, quickly seeing the pattern she had developed. Her face looked quietly determined as she held the big bowl against her stomach, her other hand stirring deliberately.   
  
Spike watched her from his seat on the couch. They were en route to Callisto, searching for the latest bounty head. Jet's friends from the ISSP had been quite useful the past few weeks. They always had a headstart on the latest bounty news, although it wasn't like the 'Big Shot' days. But perhaps, it was better this way. Since it was harder to find information on the bounties, there was less competition for Jet and Spike.   
  
  
  
_How much longer can I be a bounty hunter?_   
  
  
  
Spike had never been one to think about the future. Unless, you counted the daydreams he used to have about the day when he and Julia would finally be reunited. But those dreams were gone.   
  
Now, he didn't seem to have much of a purpose for living. Or dreaming. Or whatever this was. What was there to look forward to?   
  
  
  
"There's no more butter, so you'll have to make do," Faye told him as she set down a plate in front of him.   
  
  
  
"I've had worse," he replied. And then slowly, he took her hand. Pulling her towards him until Faye was sittng on his lap.   
  
  
  
This was all still new. Although, the past week he had been more affectionate, he still hesitated before touching her. When Jet was around, he didn't even sit next to her. They held hands once, and it was only for a minute.   
  
But he held her from behind when they stood alone in the dark. And he kissed the side of her neck every morning to wake her up. When he walked into the room, he would touch her waist, ever so softly, to greet her before doing anything else.   
  
  
  
"Aren't you going to eat?" she asked a little indignantly, "I don't want my cooking to go to waste, you know."   
  
  
  
"I'm too tired. Feed me."   
  
  
  
She rolled her eyes at him, but he just grinned.   
  
  
  
"Lunkhead."   
  
  
  
For a split second, they were back to their old selves. That familiar teasing came easily, causing a sense of nostalgia in the both of them. Faye, especially, felt it. She'd missed this.   
  
  
  
"How old are you?" But she took the plate of food and started to cut the pancakes into little pieces. Raising a forkful up to his mouth, she watched as he opened wide and swallow almost without chewing. She didn't miss the glint of mischief in his eyes. He was enjoying himself.   
  
  
  
"You once called me a heartless woman. Do you remember that?" she asked him. She waited for him to stop chewing, his eyes met hers. She was smiling, her eyes reminiscent.   
  
  
  
"Yeah, when your old boyfriend showed up. What was his name? Wiley?"   
  
  
  
"Whitney."   
  
  
  
"Yeah, whatever."   
  
  
  
She laughed, placing the now empty plate on the table. She rested an arm around his neck, while the other laid on her lap.   
  
  
  
"Did you mean that? About me being heartless?"   
  
  
  
It should have sounded reluctant, or fearful. But instead, her question was honest and unfaltering.   
  
He touched her knee, wishing she wasn't wearing long pants.   
  
  
  
"You're not heartless, Faye. You're anything but that."   
  
  
  
Bringing her hand up to his face, she gave him a smirk. The kind she used to always wear. Sexy and knowing and confident.   
  
Spike leaned forward to kiss her. They pressed their lips together gently. Once, twice. She sighed.   
  
  
  
They pulled apart quickly at the sound of someone clearing their throat.   
  
  
  
_Jet._   
  
  
  
"Don't mean to interrupt you two, but we're landing in a few minutes."   
  
  
  
Oh, to see the way they blushed. They had jumped to opposite ends of the sofa, their faces burning and turned away from each other. Jet chuckled as he left the room.   
  
Spike stood up first.   
  
  
  
"Are you going to stay in again?" he asked, his face now a normal shade of human skin.   
  
  
  
"Yeah.. I have some things I need to do."   
  
  
  
He looked at her and nodded before heading towards the hangar.   
  
  
  
_I can't believe Jet saw us..._   
  
  
  
She couldn't believe the way they'd reacted., like a bunch of teenagers getting caught underneath the bleachers. And it made her ridiculously happy.   
  
When she got up to walk back to her room, there was a sway to her hips that had once been forgotten. A sway that she barely noticed was there.   
  
  
  
But it was there.   
  
  
  
______________________________________   
  
  
  
Always deny what is most important.   
  
  
  
That was the rule. That was the law. That was her way.   
  
  
  
So when her heart questioned her motives with Spike, she shook her head. Even when her heart accused her of letting a mere man make her feel safe and at home, Faye simply soothed herself with sweet denials. Sweet lies. Funny how easy it was to lead oneself to believe what one only wanted to believe.   
  
  
  
But one only had to open her eyes to see the way she was jealous of everything he touched.   
  
  
  
The metal of the Swordfish, the chopsticks that held cooked peppers, the cloth of his shirt. Faye could not stand the idea of anything touching him more than she was allowed. It wasn't fair that the arm of the chair got to feel the soft, languid movement of his hand. The same hand that she would have traded her own for.   
  
  
  
It was frightening.   
  
  
  
_She wanted him so much that sometimes she couldn't even look at him._   
  
  
  
It was all so strange. When he was not around, she was free. She almost felt truly happy, like she was home. The Bebop was the only place she felt comfortable, even the times Faye felt alone, she was still at ease. The way it was when one was a part of a family. Jet was the overbearing father, the new puppy was her annoying younger sibling...   
  
  
  
But then _he_ would appear.   
  
  
  
It was ridiculous. One minute, she was lazily kicking her feet up and watching the monitor for interesting soaps. The next minute, her insides were twisted and her eyes fixated on only that lanky figure on the sofa next to her. He always seemed to find a way to shake her.   
  
Just the other day, she had been watching him in the hangar. Spike had not known she was there, hidden in the shadows of the far corner. She had watched him practice his martial art, mesmerized by the swift, cutting movements of his arms and legs. As he finished his workout, he walked towards the exit..   
  
  
  
And then he'd done the oddest thing.   
  
  
  
He had gone right to the door and kissed it.   
  
  
  
Suddenly, Faye had the feeling that she did not have the faintest idea who he was and that she never had.   
  
  
  
And she probably never would.   
  
  
  
___________________________________   
  
  
  
Her heart dropped to her knees when she saw him climb out of the Swordfish. His shoulder was covered in blood, his jacket soaking with the dark liquid.   
  
  
  
"Spike!"   
  
She ran to him, panicking. He only lit a cigarette, unwavering nonchalance as she reached him.   
  
  
  
"What happened?" she asked. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. Her voice shook with scared uncertainty. He hadn't expected her to sound like that.   
  
  
  
"I got shot," he explained, as if he were saying 'I got a bug bite.'   
  
  
  
Jet came around from the Hammerhead and helped Spike walk back into the main room. Faye followed from behind, her heart only beginning to slow down.   
  
  
  
"Shit," Spike muttered as he sat down. Jet crossed his arms and scowled.   
  
  
  
"We didn't need this bounty that bad, you know. No need getting yourself shot over something worth a couple woolongs."   
  
  
  
"800,000 woolongs," corrected Spike. "And we got him didn't we? That's what matters."   
  
  
  
"Shouldn't he go to a doctor?" interrupted Faye.   
  
  
  
"I don't trust the ones here on Callisto. Besides, the bullet went right through. We just gotta sew it up."   
  
  
  
"Then I'll take care of it," she said.   
  
  
  
Faye left the room in search of medical supplies. There was always a box around, full of bandages and antibiotics and sorts. Such a box was necessary when one lived with Spike.   
  
  
  
_He's as reckless as ever._   
  
  
  
There was already a pot of boiled water and strips of cloth sitting on the table when she returned with the box. Jet was always quick with these kind of things.   
  
  
  
"You want a drink before we start?" she asked him, "I think that bottle of whiskey is still around."   
  
  
  
"It's just a bullet wound. I barely feel it," he stated matter-of-factly as he slowly took off his shirt.   
  
She practically snorted when he said this, but was secretly glad to know that it wasn't much of a serious injury. The bleeding wasn't that bad, now that she took a closer look at it, it had stopped a while ago and was starting to scab. Which meant it was only a flesh wound.   
  
She wet one of the strips of cloth and sat beside him. He sat unflinching as she began to clean off the dried blood. She briefly thought of asking him what happened, but knew better. It was always the same story. Bad guy shot good guy while trying to make a getaway. Or was it bad guy shot not-as-bad guy?   
  
  
  
"I'm sick of seeing you full of holes and cuts," she told him.   
  
  
  
"Start wearing a blindfold," he countered, turning to face her. He grinned when she glared up at him, trying to blow a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. When she failed, he brushed it back for her.   
  
She started to sew the wound together, it was small, so it only required a few stitches, but since the bullet had done completely through, she would have to sew both the front and back.   
  
  
  
"Where'd Jet go?" Faye asked casually, attempting a conversation.   
  
  
  
"He's setting our coordinates back to Mars. Or maybe he's with his trees, now."   
  
  
  
"Hm."   
  
  
  
"Yeah."   
  
  
  
They were silent for a moment. The scent of her hair overpowered the sterile musk of the antibiotics. Her nimble fingers causing little currents of warmth over his skin.   
  
  
  
"Turn around a little so I can get your back."   
  
  
  
She kneeled on the couch, facing his back. It was nice, she thought, strong and sturdy.   
  
Faye started to hum, unknowingly. All her concentration on making tidy little knots, she didn't see the way his body was becoming tense.   
  
  
  
"Faye."   
  
  
  
His voice was so low, and hoarse. Stopping what she was doing, she leaned in closer to him.   
  
  
  
"What is it?"   
  
  
  
His shoulders moved up and down in rhythm with his breathing, nervousness spreading through her.   
  
  
  
"That time... that time I fell out of the church after fighting Vicious. Do you remember?"   
  
  
  
"How could I not?" her voice barely more than a whisper.   
  
  
  
"Do you remember when I woke up after that?"   
  
  
  
She wished she could see his face as he spoke, but she could only stare at his back.   
  
  
  
"You told me I was singing off-key. And I got mad, so I hit you."   
  
  
  
The memory brought the faintest of smiles to her face.   
  
  
  
"I got injured like that before, when I was still in the Syndicate. I practically dropped dead at her door."   
  
  
  
She froze, afraid to do or say anything that would stop him. Or keep him going.   
  
  
  
"I was out of it for days. I don't even remember how many times I'd gotten shot that night, but I survived," he continued in a low voice, "I survived because of her. She took me in and took care of my injuries."   
  
  
  
_Oh, Spike._   
  
  
  
"And when I woke up..." his breathing becoming increasingly tremulous, "when I woke up she was humming, and I asked her to keep singing for me."   
  
Faye then realized that he was crying. Her own tears threatening to spill out.   
  
  
  
"That was the moment I knew what would happen between us, and I accepted it. I knew there was no turning back from her then."   
  
  
  
"Spike."   
  
  
  
"That day I woke up, after I fell out of the church, I woke up because you were humming. It was the same song that Julia had sang to me."   
  
  
  
She closed her eyes, hot tears running down her face. She laid her hand on his shoulder and more tears shed when he held it.   
  
  
  
"I didn't want to hear that song again. I didn't want to feel that way again, so I made you stop."   
  
  
  
She held him then, her arms around his shoulders, her face pressed up against the crook of his neck.   
  
  
  
"I made you stop," he repeated, "I had to."   
  
  
  
They stayed that way for a long time. Her holding him close, his hand over hers.   
  
  
  
  
  
**I watched you suffer a dull, aching pain   
Now you decided to show me the same**   
  
**Faith has been broken, tears must be cried,   
Let's do some living after we die**   
  
  
  



	10. happily ever after

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters. Lyrics from "I Will Remember You" by Sarah McLaughlan have been used.   
  


**Happily Ever After**

So this is how the story ends:

The once lonely princess finally finds her battle-worn knight, they ride into the blazing sunlight on his gleaming white horse. And from there, they passionately kiss and live happily ever after.

Happily ever after¡¦

____________________________________________

And this is how the story really ends:

Faye stood in the shadows of the hangar, her heart quietly bleeding. 

Drip. Drip

_You hear that, Spike? Your hear me bleeding?_

Maybe he would come back. Maybe he would not.

That was the whole point, she supposed. She would never know when she would see him again. Maybe if they had been part of that fairy-tale, that story of the beautiful princess and knight¡¦ Maybe then, they could have lived happily ever after.

But if Julia was not the golden princess to save Spike, then the knight did not want to be saved. No, he should have died on the battlefield.

**I will remember you  
Will you remember me?  
Don't let your life pass you by  
Weep not for the memories **

Faye softly smiled as she remembered watching him leave. Her eyes had been clear and true, while his had been sorrowful and cloudy. She knew what he had sought from her. Another chance. A chance to make it all right. Redemption.

  
  


**Remember the good times that we had?  
I let them slip away from us when things got bad**

It had only been a week since his departure, and there was the chance that he would return. And a greater chance that he would not.  
  
  


**How clearly I first saw you smilin' in the sun  
Wanna feel your warmth upon me, I wanna be the one **

They were not meant for each other. It was plain as day to see. Yet, the pangs of regret and disappointment were there. _If only. If only._ That¡¯s all one could think in situations like these.

If only he had met her before Julia. If only she had died in the accident. If only he had not tried so hard to love Faye. If only she had not tried to love him more than she could. 

If only.  
  
  


**I will remember you  
Will you remember me?  
Don't let your life pass you by  
Weep not for the memories**

Perhaps, they were not capable of falling in love anymore. Once, long ago, they had been capable of such emotions. But it was when they were younger, before they had seen all the cruelties life could bring. Maybe, before then, they could have loved each other the way they wanted.

**I'm so tired, but I can't sleep  
Standing on the edge of something much too deep**

Even now, as her heart lay broken at her feet, she could only shake her head. Her mouth in an almost smile.   
  


**It's funny how we feel so much, but we cannot say a word  
We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard**

_We almost made it, Spike. We could almost say we lived happily ever after._

But, this was not meant to be. It was wrong for them to try to make each other into something they were not. But, almost.

They almost made it.

And that made her smile.

  
**But I will remember you  
Will you remember me?  
Don't let your life pass you by  
Weep not for the memories**

It was all right. Her heart hurt, her hands trembled. But, it would be all right. Even if he was gone forever.

**I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to lose  
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose**

They could cry themselves an ocean, but it would not change who they were. But maybe it was better this way. They had helped each other, given each other a shoulder, support that they could not have found anywhere else.

**Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night  
You gave me everything you had, oh, you gave me light**

So even if she bled, even if she cried, she could one day be able to say,

¡±Once, I reached out. And, so did he.¡±

**_MUST HAVE BEEN LOVE, COWBOY._****__**


End file.
